


Worth

by Parragone



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Asking for Help is Okay, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Smoke has a support system, Trauma, mentions of other operators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:08:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23732101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parragone/pseuds/Parragone
Summary: Smoke has issues staying connected emotionally and has to convince himself it's okay to need help.His boyfriends and his daughter are happy to help.
Relationships: Mark "Mute" Chandar/Seamus "Sledge" Cowden/James "Smoke" Porter
Kudos: 19





	Worth

Some things in life were hard to feel. The psychiatrist had said it was a natural defense system, something the brain did to protect itself when it had been exposed to high stress and highly traumatizing situations. James had always thought of it as bullshit, if only because he could still feel.

The terror that caused his hands to go numb as he dug the bullet out of Seamus’ abdomen had to be proof of that. The grief that clung to his heart the one time the young man’s mask wasn’t secure and he had sat by Mark’s bedside for almost a week, praying that the gas that had gotten through the mask wasn’t enough to kill him. The frustration when Mike wouldn’t wait just a few seconds longer to let Mark and Grace work their magic and ended up nearly getting shot because of it.

_ The smile on Emily’s face when Mark and Seamus came home with him that day, her excited voice when she talked to them about plans for their two weeks off. The genuine joy she seemed to infect them with, the smile Seamus couldn’t get rid of. The joy he felt seeing Mark and Emily bond for the first time, even if it was over something as stupid as hating the taste of liver; the seeping contentment when he saw the two men he loved playing cards with his daughter. _

The psychiatrist had said a dozen times he needed medication and therapy, tried to make him admit it to himself before he was ready. He remembered feeling bitter toward him, resentful of the sheer idea he needed help just to function on a daily basis. He also remembered the first day Six had asked him to try some of the medications, at least for a week or two, just to see if it got better.

_ The reassurance when Mark so gently held his hands, the encouragement in his tone. The sweetest pride that came from the younger man when the topic of medication came up. “Self-care,” Mark had called it, like it was some sort of grand achievement that James had finally grasped. The promise to help him keep his schedule every day, voice lined with patience and a sweet love that couldn’t be found anywhere else. _

_ The grateful smile on Seamus’ face when he’d discussed the prospect of medication. The gentle but firm grasp that held him close for a hug, the genuine love in the man’s eyes when he asked if there was anything he could do. Reassurances that this was okay, this was normal; that they were proud of him for trying to help himself. The warmth that chased away every thought of inadequacy that came with having to rely on medicine to feel normal. _

_ Emily happily asking him when he would start on them, offering to set an alarm on her phone and call him every day at the same time to make sure. Telling him how proud she as that he was accepting help, how strong he was to admit he wasn't as strong as he thought he was. The eager hug and the time she took to go to the pharmacy with him, dragging him to the ice cream shop once he had collected his medications.  _

It wasn’t easy to keep himself on the schedule, even months after starting it. Something bitter in him wanted to feel okay without the medicine and tried to tell him that this was the coward’s way of getting better. He leaned against the washroom sink, trying to quell the thoughts that tried so hard to tell him that it wasn’t okay to need these damn pills. He knew they would help, they had been for almost six months now, making it easier to feel and easier to respond appropriately to noncombat confrontations. 

He knew they would help, and yet some deep self-loathing part of him tried to tell him otherwise. That he was a freak and a disaster for not being able to do this without those little pills he had to take once a day, that this wasn’t worth the stigma that came with it. It was always like this, some days easier than others, the shadows in the mirror reminding him he wasn’t okay-

The door opened slowly, Mark peering into the room in such a way that most of his face was still mostly hidden. James stared at him through the mirror’s reflection at first, before turning to look at the younger man properly; he found himself ignoring the thoughts that were trying so desperately to plague him if only to listen to Mark.

“Hey, love, the movie’s on,” the engineer stated, tone softer than usual. “You okay in here?”

“Yeah, just, the usual fight.” He shook his head. “Still not the best at this.”

“S’ok,” Mark replied. “Me and Seamus can wait for you. We aren’t goin’ anywhere, so take your time.”

James paused, staring at him with a mix of relief and admiration. “You’re so goddamn patient with me, you know that?”

“Only ‘cause you’re worth the wait,” came the reply. Mark shifted, reaching in to grasp James’ hand and give it a gentle squeeze before retracting and resting on the door handle. “I’ll pop another bag in the microwave for you.”

When Mark closed the door, James looked back to the medication on the counter. He swallowed the taste in his mouth, reaching for the small cup and forcing himself to swallow the pills. He could feel that deep part of him screaming that it wasn’t normal, that it wasn’t okay to need this kind of help to just exist on a daily basis in a way that was normal.

He filled the cup with water, washing down the almost painful swallow with a drink and a deep breath. Looking in the mirror was hard, he knew that; feeling emotions past the moment they happened was harder, accepting that he needed help was harder. He knew it wasn’t easy, but that was the entire point of his life, of his duty. Who dares, wins, and he would dare whatever he had to in order to win this fight against his own mind.

He made his way out of the washroom, rubbing his throat uncomfortably as he went to the living room. He found Emily texting on her phone in the recliner, and his two lovers on the sofa; Seamus had Mark on his right side, the younger man leaning against him and bundled in his personal blanket. The left of him had a blanket folded and a bowl of popcorn sitting on top of it, along with one of James’ favorite candies. 

The Scotsman lifted a hand, gesturing for him to come to sit down, and James found himself already moving toward the open space with an eager smile. He had himself draped in the blanket before setting his bowl down in his lap, the weight of Seamus’ arm on his shoulders a comforting anchor in reality. Emily leaped up from her chair upon seeing her father comfortable, moving in front of the television and lifting her phone with a smile.

“Say cheese!”

“Ah, fuckin’ hell Em-”

The retort from Mark was drowned out by a laugh from Seamus, and Emily proudly puffing up as she trotted away victoriously. “You can hide your face every time, uncle Mark, but I’ll get you one day!”

“In your fuckin’ dreams, Em.”

“Come on, play nice, Markie.”

“Fuck no, this is a war and I will win it-”

James listened to the ensuing bickering with a lingering smile. It was hard to feel some things in life without help, but the content love he reveled in when his family was so happy was worth the struggle it took to get this far. It would be a fight to get further, to feel on his own without feeling completely empty at the same time, but for now he could live with the medication and accept the help.

This was worth the fight.

**Author's Note:**

> honestly let the operators live, where are the therapists, Harry


End file.
